


Confession

by DemonDeepFried



Series: Drabbles [14]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hobbit Culture, Hobbit Reader, Hobbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDeepFried/pseuds/DemonDeepFried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn has a bad habit of turning up on your doorstep and sleeping on your couch. It seems like tonight is no different. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

You shrugged on your shawl and padded through your hobbit hole to the front door where somebody was knocking impatiently. “Alright, alright!” you called through the glass pane. “Do you know what time it is? What could you possibly want at this hour?!”

“Y/N,” a deep, gravelly voice addressed through the letterbox. “Y/N, its me, Aragorn.”

Rolling your eyes, you muttered to yourself, “It would be,” before opening the door with an exasperated sigh and letting the taller man in.

“Sorry, its so late,” he apologised, already making himself home on your sofa. He was over at your home so often that it seemed natural enough that he would walk right in, slump into your sofa and toe his shoes off before curling up on the cushions.

“You have to stop sleeping on my couch, Aragorn,” you told him sternly, folding your arms and scowling at him. “I don’t care if there are no other inns open, you sleep in the bloody barn if you have to. I need my sleep and my sofa is not for grubby feet!”

Swatting said feet of the immaculate cushions, you gave him a dark look. To which you received a small pout and puppy eyes in return.

Throwing your hands up in defeat, you stalked out of the living to put the kettle on. “You can have  _one_ cup of tea,  _none_ of my whiskey and then you can kip on the sofa for  _one_ night. Understand? I want you gone by morning,” you instructed him through the archway.

“Afraid of what the neighbours will think of me?” he asked- a note of seriousness beneath the taunt.

“Fuck the neighbours,” you dismissed with a derivative scoff. “I just don’t want some  _man_ sleeping in my house and pilging my food,” you smiled as you entered the living room again, your mood already lifting.

Aragorn had a funny sort of gleam in his eye as he took hold of your hand and pulled you toward him.

About to question what he was doing, you were stopped short when he pressed his lips against your in a passionate kiss.

“Wh-what…” you managed to mumble when he released you, looking slightly dazed himself.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t let you complete me,” he told you in a hushed and husky voice, as he gazed deep into your eyes and continued to hold your hand tightly in his. “I love you, Y/N, I want to be with you.”

A small smile played on your lips and you pressed another chaste kiss on his mouth before breaking away to head toward the kitchen.

“This sounds like something that can wait until morning,” you told him as you came back in with two steaming mugs of tea. “So lets get to bed and we’ll sort all this out tomorrow.”

Aragorn smiled.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight,” you called over your shoulder, flashing a smirk to the man.


End file.
